We paint a picture of ourselves,

a portrait we can't escape,

We label ourselves in boxes,

and in them we hesitate.

"I am this," "I am that,"

we say with conviction and pride,

But in doing so, we limit ourselves,

and in those labels we hide.

If we detach from those images,

if we strip ourselves bare,

Then only the "I am"ness prevails,

and we're free to breathe the air.

Like the symbol of the cross,

wiping out the image of "I",

Existence whispers to us,

"Let those false images die."

The world around us speaks

in a language we can't ignore,

Each object, every creature,

reveals something more.

A leaf falling from a tree,

the shimmer of a butterfly's wings,

Each one a message, a clue to what enlightenment brings.

So let's shatter those images,

those labels we've created,

And see ourselves anew,

with no false fronts inflated.

For the whole of existence

is on a mission to reveal,

The truth of who we really are,

and how to finally heal.